


see me from your point of view

by drlecters



Series: trans!laurent [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Discussion of Pregnancy, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Nikandros is a Good Friend, POV Laurent (Captive Prince), Trans Character, Trans Laurent, and govart mention, basically laurent is kind of an unreliable narrator, but not super bad, damen is still a sap, it is kind of a plot point this time i’m sorry, laurent is not pregnant but they talk about the possibility, laurent’s canon autonomy issues, pretty brief, regent mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drlecters/pseuds/drlecters
Summary: “I would have presumed you had had your fill of me yesterday,” Laurent said amiably. “Or rather . . .”Damen emitted a rough noise from behind him at that. “Mmm. Reminds me. Come back here and sit on my face.”
Relationships: Damen & Nikandros (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince), Laurent & Nikandros (Captive Prince)
Series: trans!laurent [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013766
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	see me from your point of view

**Author's Note:**

> picks up right after the first part but idk u don’t rly have to read that to understand this!!! no smut this time doe despite the summary - sorry yall :/
> 
> *also i realize that “kyroi” and “kyros” are inconsistently both all lowercase and capitalized so i’ve made the executive decision to just. always capitalize it... it’s a position of power and i also capitalize king so i will do what i want

Laurent awoke to sunlight streaming in through the open balcony, prompting him to squint his eyes and let his vision adjust to the sudden brightness. Dawn was breaking and the flatness of the wide ocean outside did nothing to shield the land from the newness of the day. 

Damen’s soft puffs of breath were rustling his hair, displacing several strands that came to rest in the center of Laurent’s forehead. He knew his husband, accustomed to the light, was still asleep from the lax weight of his arm, strewn across Laurent’s shoulders. The sheets were loose around their ankles and they were as stark naked as when they had finally dozed off, the air being more than warm enough for both occurrences. 

He risked a glance upwards, knowing Damen was a heavy sleeper and was unlikely to rouse from the movement. The morning light cast intricate shadows across the chiseled lines of Damen’s face, bathing his dark skin in pleasant orange. 

Laurent brushed through the soft hair covering Damen’s chest with his fingertips, reminiscing on the day before, the flashes of images in his mind warming his cheeks and tightening his abdomen with arousal. Damen’s scent, comforting and pleasantly strong, only intensified the sudden sensation of emptiness between his legs. It was a testament to his impeccable self-control that he did not just straddle Damen’s burly thigh and . . . He would not let that thought fully form. 

Damen made a low, sleepy noise when Laurent involuntarily curled his fingers in the hair, not quite tugging. His eyes fluttered open, scanning the room before landing on Laurent and softening. A half-smile graced his impossibly handsome face. 

“S’morning,” he mumbled.

“Observant,” Laurent retorted fondly. 

Damen hummed and flexed his previously limp fingers against Laurent’s shoulder. “You’re not usually awake this early.” 

Laurent hid his face in his husband’s thick neck and said, “Sun’s in my eyes.” 

  
  


“Ah,” said Damen. “takes some getting used to.”

  
  


Laurent made a grumpy noise - suddenly feeling just the slightest bit testy, with his unresolved arousal and the unfairness of Damen in all his regal brilliance, every bit of him, from his rumpled hair to his glowing skin, reflecting the previous day of untrammeled lovemaking. Laurent was sure that all he had to show for it were pinkish bruises that he would have to resist prodding at later while in public. 

Damen planted a wet kiss on Laurent’s forehead. 

“I am,” he mumbled into Laurent’s skin. “Incredibly happy right now. I think I could stay in bed with you for days.” 

Laurent sighed, placing his hands on Damen’s shoulders in preparation to get up. “That reminds me, actually. We’re supposed to meet the court for further negotiations first thing in the morning. Which would probably be less than half an hour from now.”

Damen frowned. 

“I thought I’d have you to myself for today,” he muttered mournfully. 

“To yourself and a handful of Kyroi,” Laurent amended, amused. 

Damen’s frown deepened and he shifted imperceptibly. Laurent rose up on his elbows, quite gingerly, over Damen, and raised a questioning brow before Damen said, “I don’t feel like sharing you quite yet.” 

Laurent huffed a laugh and rolled to the side of the enormous bed, reluctantly detaching himself from Damen and moving into a seated position, his sore belly and legs protesting. 

“I would have presumed you had had your fill of me yesterday,” Laurent said amiably. “Or rather . . .” 

Damen emitted a rough noise from behind him at that. “Mmm. Reminds me. Come back here and sit on my face.”

Laurent could not see him but Damen’s voice was gruff and still husky with recent sleep. He smiled despite the stirring he felt, low in his abdomen, playing it off. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“I would, yeah. Wanna lick you out.”

Laurent shook his head amusedly and peeked back at Damen, who was leaning forward and reaching for him with his sizable hands, a puppyish pout on his face that clashed with the dark and lascivious look in his eyes. Laurent’s brief hesitation allowed Damen the opportunity to grasp his bare hips before he began leaving damp kisses along Laurent’s lower back, all he could reach from his prostrated position. 

Laurent allowed it, sighing with pleasure, if for the shortest of moments, before Damen’s hands encircled his waist, trailed down his stomach and —

Laurent stilled Damen’s wandering hands with his own, placing them back on the bed. 

“We really do have negotiations to oversee. Nikandros will have our heads.” 

Damen groaned, flopping back onto the bed and burying his head under the enormous mountain of pillows. 

“Very mature,” Laurent snorted, without heat. 

Damen looked up at him with narrowed eyes, looking huge and ridiculous, grumbling to himself.

  
  


As Laurent reluctantly rose from their bed, he winced against his better judgment. It was still early and he didn’t have a good grip on his reactions . . . Well, that was a bit of a stretch. He had found himself increasingly relaxed around Damen as of late and his firm control on his own emotions was rendered useless, melting away as if it were never there. 

  
  


There was a deep and throbbing ache in his cunt from the former day. The sensation was unspeakably pleasant. It made him shudder with the sudden rush of _want_ he felt flood his veins. It had not made itself fully apparent until Laurent was on his feet, and it was all he could do not to leap back into bed and take Damen up on his previous offer. 

  
  


Right. Possible bruises were not all he had to show for it, after all. It was going to take a great deal of willpower to not get sidetracked. 

  
  


Damen, never missing a beat, watched him with warm eyes. His expression was a conflicted mixture of pleased and guilty, and he moved, suddenly, as if to offer support. Laurent waved him off, legs wobbling traitorously. 

  
  


“Are you —? Did I . . . I didn’t —”

Laurent interjected softly, “No. It’s alright. I like it. I told you before.”

Color rose in Damen’s cheeks and he inhaled sharply. It was endlessly amusing, the way that Damen could say things to Laurent like “sit on my face” without flinching but blushed furiously whenever Laurent returned that energy. Laurent didn’t dare glance down at his lap or else he suspected that they would never leave their chambers. He turned away, steeling himself and pointedly ignoring the feeling of Damen’s eyes on him as he moved about the room, lingering on the swell of his hips, his rear, the lithe musculature of his horse-strengthened legs. 

“You should dress,” he said in a remarkably even voice.

Damen hummed his agreement before Laurent heard the sheets shift, signaling Damen’s own reluctant ascension from their bed. 

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Nikandros looked, somehow, more uncomfortable than ever. 

The other Kyroi had finished their own pieces, come and gone and studiously avoided too much eye contact. Nikandros was the sole remaining, despite the transparency of his desire to flee, obviously having more to say beyond lands and ownership. The three of them sat around an oak table in the privacy of a room adjacent to their own. 

Laurent knew the pair of them likely exuded all the signs of a very long and very satisfying day of consummating their marriage if Nikandros hadn’t already heard the gossip that was spread before the sun had even begun to rise. It wasn’t like they had not already lain together, despite the taboo of it all, but they had never before had opportunity to lose all inhibitions in the safety of their own palace along with the lack of anxiety associated with the possibility of pregnancy. 

Laurent had said before that his line would end with him, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be long before the lack of an heir would become a problem. He wasn’t exactly itching to be bred and whispered about, made a spectacle of, but he felt the sooner he came to terms with it, the greater likelihood that he would actually be alright with it. He still struggled with opening up to Damen about his discomfort, being truthful in his hangups and hesitancies.

He thought, briefly, of his uncle. The lies whispered in his ears for what felt like a century, about what his body was and wasn’t, what it was made for. He banished the thought with finality, having already acknowledged the falsehood for exactly what it was time and time again. Laurent suspected these lies would always linger in some form, but it felt easier to move on every day. 

His uncle had been one of his very few experiences of another trying to alienate him from his own body. Govart, another, with raucous insults about what should be done about his ownership of a cunt and calling him “princess” in front of his own soldiers, amidst the court, in the damp dungeons of Fortaine. Two particularly vile examples, Laurent knew. 

The only time in his life he had begun to believe the deception, was among his own court.

_My uncle’s court,_ he had told Damen. 

They had been every bit his uncle’s and had earnestly hung on his every word. It had been a shock to his system, finding that not everyone believed as they did, with no love for bastards or men without cocks or anything less than what their Regent would have them believe. Besides, Laurent was perfectly comfortable in his own skin nowadays, self-assured in that he knew he owed no one neither masculinity nor femininity and would go about his life utterly indifferent to anyone that thought otherwise. His gender was a fact and it was common knowledge, not a piece of gossip to be disputed. He was overwhelmingly accepted in mind and body and kingship. 

The prickling of fear he felt now, though, was that carrying a child would reverse all of that growth like it had never happened. That his uncle would succeed from beyond the grave in his attempts to turn him against himself, the way he had turned his own people against him. That something as extraordinary as creating life with the man he loved and trusted most in the world could turn him into the terrified child he no longer was. He would do whatever he must, but he didn’t know if he was ready, despite what he had told Damen. Outside of the context of intercourse, in between passionate supplication and whispered confession, the weight of the idea was like a stone among Laurent’s insides.

Nikandros spoke up finally, looking every inch as if he would rather drop dead and said, “The people will desire an heir.” 

Ah. Just as he thought then. 

Laurent opened his mouth to respond, but had ruminated on his own thoughts for far too long and merely gaped, feeling like he had forgotten how to speak. He hadn’t the slightest idea of how to verbalize his hesitancies in a way they could grasp. Damen turned to look at Laurent, thick brows furrowing in confusion at his silence. Nikandros, too, looked suddenly concerned and puzzled by Laurent’s uncharacteristic speechlessness. 

Laurent shut his mouth with a click, felt his cheeks heat in mortification that Nikandros had witnessed even a glimpse of weakness in him. He was accustomed to baring all for Damen, his vulnerability more of an afterthought most days. But he had let himself become too comfortable, saw too much of Damen in Nikandros that he had inadvertently let his guard down. He suspected the damage was already done, though, and Damen’s expression had smoothed in understanding, like everything he couldn’t bring himself to say was written all over his face. Damen exchanged a look with Nikandros, who seemed to suddenly understand in his own way, which could not have been much as Damen would have died before ever violating Laurent’s trust so completely as to tell anyone else what his uncle had done.

They waited patiently for Laurent to continue, and he felt a surge of gratefulness for the two of them. 

“I’m not entirely sure that,” Laurent began. “I’m prepared for . . .”

Damen looked him in the eyes and said, seriously, “You don’t have to. Now or ever. I’m perfectly content to spend the rest of our days together with the knowledge that you were _never_ forced into anything while I lived and breathed and had the ability to stop it.” 

Nikandros did not look like he would even attempt to tell them otherwise, knowing that whatever his Kings chose would go, and looking as if he, too, was inclined to feel the same in his own right. Not nearly as protective as Damen, but more than attached to Laurent by now and uneager to see him uncomfortable or paraded and exposed against his will. He did not know the half of why exactly Laurent was unsettled but had accepted it without hesitation. 

Laurent felt himself flush again, touched by the consideration. 

He nodded slowly, then said, “I suspect I just need time to adjust to the idea. But I am grateful for the two of you prioritizing my say in the matter.”

“You are our King,” Nikandros said. “Your say _is_ the priority. And I think Damen, as our other King, would agree that in this particular instance his judgment is an afterthought.”

Damen inclined his head in earnest agreement. 

“Thank you,” Laurent said in a soft voice. “I would prefer the simplicity of supplying you with a straightforward answer. But I am unsure if . . .” 

Nikandros and Damen both gazed at him, expressions still understanding, remarkably similar in coloring and mannerisms. The same straight nose and matching sets of warm brown eyes. It served as a balm to his unsettled spirit, and he finished with: “. . . I am unsure if making an immediate decision is wise.”

Nikandrose rose from his seat, acknowledging that there would be no further discussion, bowing appropriately. 

“I recognize Exalted’s hesitancy and vow to handle anyone who objects to your eventual decision however he sees fit.”

Laurent smiled, “Thank you. You are dismissed, Kyros.” 

After Nikandros had exited the room, Damen looked at the door he had disappeared through, a curious expression on his face. 

“He has warmed to you,” Damen said, clearly pleased but slightly skeptical. Looking as he had when Laurent had told him about their lessons and the books and when Nikandros had smiled at them fondly as they left their own wedding celebrations. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Laurent smirked. 

“I — No! I just didn’t — Well, I didn’t think —” His stammering ceased when he spotted the sly look on Laurent’s face. 

“I know I’m not easy to love,” Laurent said, raising his hand when Damen opened his mouth to protest. “ _But_ I am grateful for the kindness that you both show me, even if his might be more for your benefit than my own.”

“No,” Damen said seriously, with a shake of his head. “I know what that looks like on him. It’s not that. I think he has come to care for you, in his own way.”

_In his own way._ The same thing Laurent had thought earlier. It was intriguing, to see the way that Nikandros’s discrepancies faded with time, what had been merely been his love and respect for Damen that was extended to Laurent evolve into something resembling love and respect for Laurent himself. 

“Against his better judgment, I suspect.” 

Damen chuckled. “Regardless,” He continued. “It comforts me to know that you have more than myself on your side. I am only one man.”

“You are the King,” Laurent corrected. “And you are all I will ever need. But I think that . . . with time I could grow used to the idea of supplying you with an heir.”

“ _Us._ It would not only be my heir. I have no desire to see you used like a broodmare and cast aside. It would be a child of ours or none at all.”

Laurent was well past overwhelmed by now and had to look away from the fierce expression on Damen’s face. He was still unaccustomed to being treated so kindly, especially by someone who he valued more than life itself. 

“Alright,” Laurent said, voice thick with emotion. “Alright.” 

He would think it over, thoroughly, but he felt no fear for whatever conclusion he came to with the knowledge that Damen would love him regardless. His love was not a condition dependent on his age or his willingness to bear children or however long the youthfulness of his looks and body endured - but was entirely for the person that Damen recognized him as, sharp edges turned soft and all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> title is obv from [pov by ariana](https://youtu.be/nQJEp-k-ogs) bc it’s . them like it’s literally them


End file.
